“The camp should have been too much for anyone. I had no idea people actually lived like this. It is certainly a far cry from what I’ve been used to.”
“Me, as well.”
Sudden curiosity about what he was used to invaded her mind. What influences had made him into the man he was? His offer to increase his donations to the church fund hadn’t surprised her, she realized, other than the fact he didn’t live like a man who had funds to spare. His home was modest, at best. She would be astounded if he owned more than the two pairs of britches she’d seen him wear. His worn slouch hat had seen more than a few years of use.
All of these questions were dangerous, she knew. She shouldn’t want to get to know him better. Not when every part of her screamed for his touch, and her heart couldn’t bear any more ache. Still, she couldn’t resist the temptation. “What are you used to?”
He smiled that half grin that made him look like a mischievous child. It was endearing enough to frighten her. “Believe it or not, I was raised on a sheep station.”
She found herself smiling at the thought of a young Paul running across pastures chasing whatever creature caught his attention. She should still be angry with him, but she found it incredibly difficult considering the way he made her feel. Like she mattered.
It wasn’t the first time she’d felt that way, and she instantly guarded herself against it.
“The truth is, I appreciate what the Aborigines have lost. I suppose Blue had a lot to do with that. He practically raised my best mate, Dale, and me, and Dale’s little brother, Joel. He taught us about the land, and the history that connects all of us, no matter if we’re black or white.”
“You love Blue, don’t you?”
“Aye. He’s like a father to me.”
“Is it true that he can read people’s futures?”
“Some days, I think so. He’s never been wrong yet. Why? Has he said something to you?”
“Not really. But he looks at me as though he can tell what I’m thinking.”
“He does that a lot. It can be a bit unnerving, can’t it?”
Unnerving? Yes. But not as much as Paul. Thankfully, they’d reached the walk in front of the clinic. If she could make it back inside her office, she would be safe. Away from the insistent flutter of her heart whenever she was with Paul. Visions of him running wild through the desert, his blond hair dancing in the wind, flashed in her mind. The idea that his children would be equally as adventurous formed, unbidden, as well.
“So, have you forgiven me, Helen?” he asked.
Had she? When she’d arrived at the church before the tour of the reservation, she’d been annoyed he would be their guide. Yet now, as she stood in front of her door like some winsome young woman on her first sojourn with a young man, the only thing that annoyed her was her reaction to his heady gaze. That, and the fact she was suddenly glad he’d been there.
But had she forgiven him?
“I … I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Maybe?” he repeated. “I’m afraid that simply won’t do. Please, don’t break my heart again. Say you forgive me, or I’ll do something to earn your contempt.” His smile broadened, spreading his full, soft lips in a sensual line.
“I have no contempt for you, Paul,” she stated with a lilt in her voice she didn’t recognize. “Honestly.”
“Could have fooled me, love.”
“I was angry. I’ll admit that much, but can you blame me? You tricked me.”
“I scared you. And for that I am truly sorry.”
“Then you are forgiven.” Dangerous pathways. She braced herself for what she instinctively knew would come. The shine in his eyes, the way his mouth twitched ever so slightly.
He lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers with such gentle force she couldn’t be certain it was real. When he touched her, flashes of something powerful and sure rushed through her veins, bringing all of the secret parts of her body to stunning life. She closed her eyes, lost in the exhilaration of the moment. He moved away too quickly. She wanted more. So much more.
She opened her eyes, and he was gone.
Nanara laid her valise on the bed in a delightful, but small room above the clinic in Port Hedland while Helen cleared the top of the dresser for her new roommate.
Hopefully, Nanara would like the accommodations enough to stay. When she’d arrived more than an hour ago, she’d insisted that she should find a place in the Aboriginal camp just outside of town. It had taken both Doc and Helen the full hour to convince her otherwise.
Helen finished clearing the dresser and placed the few sundry items into a hidden drawer beneath the wardrobe. “There. That should give you enough room for your things.”
She scanned the space, making sure nothing was out of place. The cheerful paper on the walls hosted an array of flowers, bordered with pink and light-green striping in a vertical pattern that was pleasing to the eye. The bed was old, but sturdy. The headboard matched the pattern on the wardrobe with swirling designs and clusters of carved grapes hanging from a vine.
“It’s a very nice room, Doc. Nicest I’ve ever had.”
“I’m glad you like it. I was just about to do a little shopping, if you’d like to come with me.”
Helen had been looking forward to Nanara’s coming to live with her for so many days, she couldn’t wait to begin what would hopefully be a strong, lengthy friendship. She’d missed having a woman to talk with about the little things.
“If you think there won’t be a problem.”
“Why would there be a problem? Come on, grab your clutch and let’s go!”
Nanara drew her gaze over her attire, consisting of a pair of dark men’s britches, a thick shirt made from homespun wool, and black boots. “Do I look like I carry one of those things?”
“No,” Helen giggled. “I don’t suppose you do. We’ll have to pick something up for you, as well. Those clothes are fine for herding sheep, but as my nurse, we’ll need something a little … less mannish.”
“I think I’m offended,” Nanara quipped. Her wide smile removed the sting.
The two women hurried out of the apartment and into the busy shopping district. Shops lined the street, selling everything from candy and dry goods to phonograph records and brand-new clothes washing machines. The store Helen needed was on the other side of the street. They waited for a long, black motorcar to pass, then ran across in front of the ice wagon on its way from the docks to make its deliveries.
The entire town was a bustling example of trade and commerce. Yet everywhere she looked, she saw reminders of what life must have been like two or three decades past. Women still wore long dresses here. They covered their arms and wore bonnets decorated with artificial flowers, more suited to a time even before the Great War. If she was going to fit in, be accepted as a true Australian, she must look the part.
“What are we shopping for, Doc?”
“Dresses.”
“What kind of dresses?”
“Something in which we can work comfortably. Not too hot, if we can avoid it. Here we are,” she announced. “This looks like a nice shoppe.”
When they entered the small storefront, the floorboards creaked. The proprietor, alerted apparently by the screaming wood, looked up from the account books she’d been reviewing on the counter. “Can I help—”
The words died as quickly as the smile that almost appeared on the woman’s tightly closed mouth. After raking her gaze over both Helen and Nanara with obvious distaste, she squared her shoulders. “I’m sorry. We don’t have anything for you.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said, we don’t have anything in this store that would suit either one of you.” The woman canted her head to one side and stared pointedly at Helen, as though Helen were too stupid to understand her the first time.
“I heard what you said, but I’m not sure I understand. We’re looking for a few simple items of clothing.”
“I have nothing you’d like.
” She glanced at Nanara and shuddered. “And I don’t sell men’s clothing at all.”
“It’s fine, Doc. Let’s go,” Nanara urged.
“No. This is ridiculous. We have every right to shop here.”
“No, Doc. It’s different here. Let’s leave.” Nanara spoke through clenched teeth. The fact she wished to fight the woman and her insulting insinuations was obvious in the way her hair all but bristled.
“I see,” Helen answered, wishing she could fight the woman, as well.
They left the store, but Helen was no longer in the mood to shop.
“Is that the first time you’ve had to deal with someone like her?” Nanara asked once the door had closed behind them.
“No, not really. She caught me off guard, that’s all.” Helen paused, trying to decide if Nanara was as surprised as she was. “That happens a lot for you?”
“All the time. In Perth, we’re not even allowed to go into town. And most people assume we don’t have enough money to buy anything, anyway.” She shrugged. “Truth is, most of us don’t. Then again, we don’t generally need much.”
“I don’t need much, either, honestly. I just want to belong somewhere, you know? I thought I might be welcome here, but I don’t wear the right clothes, I don’t speak the right way, and I can only imagine what some of the women would do to me if they knew I smoked cigarettes!”
“Hang you from the nearest tree, I reckon.” Nanara laughed, but the sound was hollow.
“I suppose I thought by buying a new dress, I could fool everyone into thinking I belonged.”
“I’m afraid there’s only the one dress shop in town.”
“What about a seamstress? If I can’t buy a dress, I’ll have one made.”
“I know of one. She’s made clothing for the children in the orphanages with her leftover fabrics on occasion. She’s friendly, too. I don’t think you’ll have any problems with her.”
Helen followed Nanara to the woman’s house. Sitting up on stilts roughly three feet high, the one-story structure was mostly white, with chipped pale lemon trimming around the windows and single door. Latticework had been hung around the porch to keep out the oppressive heat and bright light of the Pilbara sun. They knocked twice on the door and waited.
Within a few moments, Annie Sullivan opened the door, her youngest towheaded child perched on her hip.
“Dr. Stanwood? What on earth are you doing all the way out here?”
“I didn’t know I was looking for you, but what a pleasant surprise! Nanara says you’re a seamstress. Is that true?”
“Aye. One of the best in this part of the bush, if I don’t say so meself. Don’t stand there getting baked to death, ladies. Come inside and have a cup of tea while I put these ankle-biters into bed for a wee nap.”
Once she had settled her children into a room at the back of the house, Annie returned with a tray of tea. “It’s not the best blend, but it’ll do in a pinch.” She poured two cups and handed them to Nanara and Helen. “Now, what can I do for you?”
Helen described a simple nurse’s uniform with a slim waist, a high neckline, and a long skirt, not quite touching the ground, for Nanara. For herself, she wanted something more austere, in black. A stiff bodice with buttons in the front and as little frill as possible. Severe. Something that would befit her as a doctor, a professional. A confirmed spinster.
“Why in the world would you want something like that?” Annie made a face, curling her lips awkwardly and rolling her eyes. “You’re going to scare every bloke for eight hundred miles.”
Helen smiled. “Perfect. You have it exactly.”
“But why? You’re always so polished. Your dresses are fun.”
“I don’t want to be fun. I want to be seen for what I am. A doctor.”
“You’re a woman, too, let’s not forget,” Annie chortled, adding a wink to punctuate her meaning.
“Have I missed something?” Nanara asked.
“No,” Helen replied.
“Yes,” Annie continued. “She and Paul have a little thing going, don’t they? And I have a feeling he likes you just the way you are.”
“We don’t have a thing.”
Annie’s smiled doubled. Nanara grinned like a child with a secret.
“We don’t. Honestly.”
It couldn’t get much worse.
Could it?
A car slid to a stop in front of the house, the sound of scattering gravel hitting the front porch. Helen followed Annie to the window. Paul lifted himself from behind the wheel and climbed quickly out of the car.
“What the devil is chasing him?” Annie tossed the door open, and all three women filed onto the porch.
“Paul,” Annie acknowledged. “Is something wrong?”
Helen didn’t have to wait for an answer. Paul’s drawn expression, the worried light in his eyes, even the set of his shoulders answered for him. He was obviously looking for her. “Doc! They need you back at the clinic.”
Helen hurried down the steps, with Nanara right behind her. “I’ll have to reschedule our measurements, Annie,” she called over her shoulder while she climbed into the passenger seat.
Paul lifted the rumble seat, settled Nanara into it, then they raced over the dusty roads leading back to the center of town.
“What’s happened?” Helen yelled over the roar of the engine, holding her cloche hat in place with one hand and gripping the door with the other.
Paul sped around a corner, the back end of the motorcar sliding erratically.
“Marla McIntyre fell in the river,” he answered before taking another sharp turn.
Dear God. Helen had seen what a crocodile could do to a grown man, a man who was prepared for a battle. She could only imagine what could happen to a child Marla’s size. She closed her eyes and offered a silent prayer before she asked the only question on her mind.
“How bad is it?”
“She wasn’t breathing when they hauled her out, but she is now. Barely.”
“Where’s Doc?”
“We couldn’t find him.” The final turn before they reached the clinic approached rapidly. Paul didn’t slow down, but took the turn wide before straightening out and increasing his speed yet again. He blared the horn at a pedestrian who nearly stepped off the walkway and into their path.
The man leapt back onto the boardwalk, cursing loudly.
“How did you find me?”
Paul took his eyes off the road long enough to throw her a daring smile. “You’re pretty easy to spot.”
“Keep your eyes on the road, please, Paul. I’d like to get there with my head still firmly attached to my shoulders.”
He refocused his attention on his driving and within a few seconds brought them to a stop directly in front of the office.
Helen rushed inside, leaving her clutch and her nurse behind. Once inside, she yanked her laboratory jacket from its hook in her office and ran to the examination room.
Marla McIntyre lay unconscious on Doc’s old wooden table. Her clothing was soaked through. Her shoes were covered in silt and mud. Droplets of water fell from the ends of her hair to land silently on the hardwood floor.
Mrs. McIntyre hovered over her daughter, rubbing the cold, pale cheeks with the palms of her hands. “Wake up, darling. Mummy needs you to wake,” she cried.
“How long has she been like this?” Helen inquired, advancing to the table as if she prepared to take on a superior enemy.
“You? What are you doing? Get away from her!”
“She needs medical attention. If you can’t stay out of my way, I’ll have you removed.”
“I want Dr. Mallory,” Mrs. McIntyre demanded.
Paul and Nanara came into the exam room.
“What should I do?” Nanara asked.
Mrs. McIntyre gasped. “You cannot allow that black woman to tend my daughter!”
“Paul?” Helen insinuated.
“Come on with me, Mrs. McIntyre. Let the ladies do their work.”
“No! I’m not leaving my daughter with them. You said you were going to find the doctor,” she cried, tears streaming over her cheeks.
Helen knew exactly how she felt. Hopeless to change something that she didn’t like. Having choices made for her when she felt other choices would have been better. Losing the one thing she cared about in all the world.
Still, Helen couldn’t work if Mrs. McIntyre was going to continue her hysterical rant.
Paul escorted her from the room while she continued to sob uncontrollably. “You said you were getting the doctor!”
“I did. She’s a fine doc, Mrs. McIntyre. You’ll see.”
Once they had traveled far enough down the hall that
Helen was reasonably sure they couldn’t overhear anything said in the exam room, Helen spoke her concerns aloud. “She didn’t go swimming. She fell in, either just before or just after she hit her head.” Helen pulled her stethoscope from its wooden box and put the earpieces in place.
“How do you know?”
“She’s wearing her shoes.” Helen listened closely to her patient’s heart for a few seconds. The beat was strong. Releasing a breath she hadn’t known she held until that moment, she instructed Nanara to hold the child up on her side.
The lungs would tell the tale. She closed her eyes and placed the chest piece on Marla’s back. No rattling. Clean, steady breath sounds.
No water in the lungs.
“Is she going to recover?” Nanara asked, gently placing Marla on her back when Helen indicated she’d finished.
“She wasn’t breathing while she was in the water. That’s a good sign, but it all depends on how hard she’s hit her head. Will you take off her wet clothes and wrap her in a blanket while I go speak with her mother?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Nanara immediately set herself to the task, the pride of her new position shining through in her smooth, gentle movements.
Paul was in the parlor, sitting next to Mrs. McIntyre while the older woman wept uncontrollably. On her other side, another man, burly and quite tall with a full beard and long, black hair, rubbed her back in a soothing motion.
Mrs. McIntyre loved her child. Of course, that wasn’t so unusual, but for some reason, it struck Helen right between the eyes. To lose a child was the most painful, heart-wrenching, cruel experience anyone could endure. Children were supposed to live forever; they were an immortal extension of the parent, and even though she knew that no one could live forever, it was supposed to seem like forever. So long as the child outlived the parent…
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